In His Sights

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In His Sights Page 6

by Justine Davis


  She never even looked up when he came in, hardly the actions of someone with a load of stolen goods on them. But the bag was close at hand, and removing the PDA didn’t appear to have taken down the volume any.

  He decided quickly to grab a chance.

  “Hey, Kate, hi!” he called, making a sharp turn as if he’d just spotted her. In his movement he caught the edge of the table with his leg, sending her bag sliding. “Uh-oh,” he said, reaching as if to catch it, but in fact making sure it went over the edge.

  Her sharp exclamation of surprise and concern echoed in his ears. Was it normal for the situation? He wasn’t sure, but she didn’t sound panicked, or afraid, not even when he apologized profusely and knelt to gather the bag—and get a glimpse of what was in it.

  He saw a wallet, a flip-up cell phone, a small zippered nylon bag, several pens and a notebook—apparently she didn’t completely trust the PDA—a thick paperback book, and what was taking up most of the room, a clipboard holding several papers.

  She could be hiding something in the zippered bag, he supposed, but he’d seen a sample of the packaged pump, and if she could get more than a couple in there, he’d be surprised. And they were disappearing by the dozen.

  Of course, she could be getting ready to make contact with a new customer, perhaps just bringing a sample to convince them she really had access to the pumps.

  And maybe she just came out to get some lunch, he muttered inwardly as he set the bag back on the table.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I just didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Sooner or later everyone in Summer Harbor ends up here,” she said.

  “I didn’t break anything, did I?” he asked, gesturing at the bag.

  “I already had out the only thing that could break,” she said, gesturing at the PDA.

  “Whew,” he said, “I’m glad.” He gestured at her lunch tray. “So, is the food good here, or are they just the only thing around?”

  She studied him for a moment, as if she were trying to decide if there had been an insult to her beloved Summer Harbor in his question. Whatever she decided, she answered evenly enough.

  “Both.”

  “What do you recommend?”

  “Depends on your taste. And how much time you’ve got. The French onion soup is wonderful, but it takes a while to eat. Their hot chicken sandwich is great.”

  He nodded, glanced at the counter and saw they were clear, and figured he could get his order and come back here before she finished. Unless he’d scared her off and she sped through the rest of her meal.

  Deciding it would seem too odd if he didn’t order the lunch he’d supposedly come in here for, he walked over and asked for the recommended sandwich. When he had it, he walked back to her table as quickly as he could manage without looking like he was rushing.

  “Do you mind?” he asked, gesturing at the empty seat opposite her, and then pulling it out to sit before she really had a chance to answer. “I decided on just a sandwich. I’ll save the soup until it gets really cold.”

  She lifted one dark, sleek brow at him. “You plan on being here that long?”

  “I like it here,” he said, and found somewhat to his surprise that it was nothing less than the truth. “The people are really nice.”

  “Yes, they are,” she said. “Nice, and generous and…trusting.”

  He didn’t miss the slight emphasis on the last word. What he didn’t know was what it meant. Was it an unconscious thing, stemming from her ability to fool those trusting people she was talking about? Or did she put herself in that category as well, implying that her innocent trust resulted in the current mess at Redstone?

  He hadn’t thought about that aspect, really. If she was innocent, then she was in a very difficult place, being responsible for the shipping of the product, and the fact that the thefts were apparently occurring in her jurisdiction, as it were.

  But he still thought she was awfully edgy for an innocent person.

  So much for her quiet, peaceful lunch, Kate thought. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been looking forward to it until the too charming Mr. Singleton had interrupted. He’d nearly startled her out of her chair when he’d knocked her bag off the table. He’d been nice about it, though, retrieving it for her and being so concerned that he’d broken something. But now he didn’t seem disposed to leave and let her return to her meal in peace.

  “Your grandmother seems pretty worried,” he said, startling her again.

  “Excuse me?”

  “She seems worried. I know part of it is about your grandfather, and his knees, but is there something else bothering her as well?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about,” she said, instantly on guard at the personal question.

  He didn’t take the hint. “I noticed she seemed upset at the mail, some bills that came.”

  Anger kicked through her. You want to know if you’re wasting your time? If they have enough money to make them worth ripping off?

  “I don’t know anyone who likes bills coming in,” she said, stalling as her mind raced. Should she lie and say they were dead broke, so he would go poach elsewhere? But wasn’t it clear they weren’t rich from the fact that they were renting out their own room to a total stranger? And besides, the idea of just driving him away to prey on someone else didn’t sit well with her.

  “I was just wondering,” he said, as if he realized he’d betrayed too much.

  “Do you always get so involved with total strangers?” she asked, unable to quite suppress the edge that came into her voice.

  He studied her for a moment, as if he were analyzing her tone as much as what she had said. “I like them,” he finally said.

  And you’re making sure they like you, she thought, that anger stirring anew.

  “They remind me of my own grandparents.”

  “Oh?” She left it at that, wanting to see what he’d say, how far he’d go with this ploy.

  “Yes, they do. My grandmother especially. She was a lot like yours.”

  He looked wistful. Kate stopped herself from asking about that past-tense reference, telling herself this was just his way of further charming her vulnerable grandparents and trying to win points with her. Well, it wasn’t going to work on her.

  “Taken any good pictures yet?” She kept the sarcasm to a minimum; whatever he was up to, she didn’t want to scare him off before she found out.

  “Won’t know that ‘til I get them developed. But if not, it’s surely my fault. I’ve got good equipment and the material’s all here.”

  The modest admission surprised her a little. But then she told herself it was all part of the act, the same practiced dispensing of charm that had her grandparents practically ready to adopt him.

  “You’re a bit late for the height of the fall color.” And wouldn’t a real photographer have known that?

  “I know. But actually, the bare branches of the deciduous trees set against the backdrop of the evergreens fascinates me more. It’s almost sculptural. Especially the madronas, with that red bark.”

  Kate blinked. For a con man, that was a rather artistic-sounding statement to make. And he’d said it with an enthusiasm she found hard to disbelieve. She found herself wondering again if maybe he was for real.

  That’s why they call them con men, she told herself. Don’t you go falling for the act!

  She focused on her sandwich as if finishing it were the most important thing in the world. And as if chewing carefully enough could somehow keep her from succumbing to that charm that had her grandparents so bewitched. When that didn’t work, she sipped at her soda as if it could give her immunity to his polished act. Problem was, it didn’t seem to be working. How could a man she didn’t trust, in fact was very suspicious of, make her pulse kick into high speed like this? How could she heat up at the sight of him when she was afraid he might harm her grandparents? She’d never been betrayed by her body before, but that’s what this felt like. It was as if her se
nses had suddenly refused to listen to her brain, and she didn’t like the confusion.

  She was still telling herself it was an act as she drove back to the office. And as she spent the afternoon on the spreadsheet Mel had needed, working on closing it out for the third quarter, it took her much longer than it should have, because her thoughts kept straying to a pair of blue eyes that seemed too open and honest to hide what she suspected he was hiding.

  She told herself it had nothing to do with his unquestionable appeal. She was simply worried about the way he was worming his way so deeply into her grandparents’ lives so quickly, and how she was going to protect them while still keeping a handle on this theft situation at work. She told herself all of that, then repeated it.

  It didn’t help much.

  “You’ve got to get a handle on it before you can keep a handle on it,” she muttered to the screen she’d been staring at for who knew how long now.

  When at last the phone rang, she welcomed the interruption. A glance at the clock told her it was nearly time to get out of here anyway. Quickly she saved her work and shut down the spreadsheet program, then swiveled her chair back to the desk to pick up the phone.

  “Katy, you’ll never believe it,” her grandmother said, obviously excited about something.

  “Believe what, Gram?”

  “It’s so exciting! I got a phone call this afternoon from a man, about some money.”

  “Money? What money?”

  “I’m trying to tell you, dear. He talked so fast it was hard to keep up, but he was going on and on about this money that was sitting in an account that he couldn’t get to, but we could. He said all we had to do was put up the same amount, to show good faith, and—”

  “You haven’t done anything?” she exclaimed.

  “Well no, we only called the man back to set up a meeting. Rand said we should—”

  A chill went through her. “Rand told you to call this guy back?”

  “Yes, he said we should go along with the plan, then we could—”

  “I’m on my way. Don’t do anything, anything until I get there,” Kate snapped.

  She slammed down the phone. Singleton’s con had begun.

  She broke the speed limit every mile of the way, her heart hammering. She was a fool. She should never have let this go this far. She should have thrown him out the moment she laid eyes on him.

  Her tires threw up a spray of gravel as she made a rapid turn down her grandparents’ driveway. She scrambled out of her car the instant it came to a stop. Left the door standing open. Ran to the house.

  Moments later she was back standing on the front porch, dread clenching around her heart painfully. A glance through the garage window only heightened her fears. Their tired old station wagon was inside.

  But her grandparents—and Rand Singleton’s car—were gone.

  Chapter 7

  It had never occurred to her to program the sheriff’s department number into her cell phone. Her life here just didn’t require that. Or so she’d thought. Around here, for the most part, people either called 911 or handled it themselves. A life-or-death emergency you called for help on, anything else you just took care of yourself.

  She ran back to her car, although she wasn’t sure exactly where she was going to go. She dug out her cell phone as she started the engine and headed back out the driveway. Summer Harbor wasn’t that big, and she could search it fairly thoroughly in a short time, but she had no idea if they were even still in town. Of course, they couldn’t have gotten far in the few minutes since she’d left Redstone, but if Singleton had taken them out of town…

  Damn it, she thought as she began the process of dialing information and getting the sheriff’s nonemergency number from her cell service, she was going to get them a cell phone, whether they wanted it or not. And make them learn how to use it.

  It suddenly occurred to her that her grandparents could well be in actual danger. Didn’t that warrant a call to 911? She obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. She disconnected and made the three-digit call as she turned back onto the main highway.

  What she hadn’t realized was that 911 calls from a cell phone went to a central communications office, not the more local one, and it took an extra few seconds for the dispatcher to work out exactly where she was. And in that time, she made a discovery.

  Singleton’s rented SUV was parked in front of, of all places, the Curl and Cut.

  She dropped her cell and yanked the steering wheel, barely making the turn into the parking lot in front of a delivery van that pulled out from the bank drive-through. As soon as it was safe she grabbed the phone, told the dispatcher to cancel for now, she’d call back, and disconnected.

  She parked behind Singleton’s vehicle, effectively blocking him in. Then she got out and ran toward the Curl and Cut’s door.

  She slowed when she got a look through the big window in front. Through the ornately painted C of Curl, she saw a group of people huddled in the back half of the salon. Among them were her grandparents, Esther, Cheryl from the sandwich shop and Rand Singleton. And they were all looking toward her.

  No, she realized, coming to a halt now. They weren’t looking at her. They were looking at the bank.

  She glanced over her shoulder, but saw nothing unusual at the small, shingle-sided building. Frowning she turned back to the salon door she was now standing in front of.

  Singleton was there, pulling the door open and gesturing her inside. “Come on,” he said, his tone just short of being an order. “Get inside, like you had an appointment.”

  She hesitated for a moment, but only a moment; her grandparents were in here, so even if this was some sort of crazy hostage situation, this was where she had to be.

  “Come in, Kate!” her grandmother called out.

  “I called the sheriff,” she warned Singleton as she stepped inside. “They’re on the way.” No need, she decided, to tell him she’d cancelled the call.

  “They’re already here,” he said.

  She blinked. “What?”

  “They’re already here,” he repeated. “We’re just waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “For the arrest!” Her grandmother had come up to them, the smile on her face wide with excitement. “I tried to tell you, but you were so brusque on the phone.”

  “Arrest?” she asked, feeling more than a little stupid.

  “It worked exactly like Rand said it would,” her grandfather put in. “We played along, just like he told us to.”

  Her grandmother actually giggled. “We acted like we were too silly to realize it was a swindle, and they bought it!”

  “Teach them to think gray hair means gray thinking,” her grandfather said.

  “There! There they come,” Esther yelped, pointing.

  Kate turned along with everyone else. At the bank, three people were coming out. A man, flanked closely by another man in a sheriff’s uniform and an older woman with white hair in a tidy bun, wearing a flowered dress that looked vaguely familiar to Kate.

  A woman who didn’t move like an older woman at all.

  “Yes!” Kate’s grandfather exclaimed. “We caught him!”

  Kate watched, a little stunned, as the trio turned and walked toward a plain, dark green car parked beside the bank. The man in the center was put in the back seat, and only then did Kate see that he was handcuffed. The woman closed the door, checked the lock, then walked to the front passenger door of a second green vehicle parked next to the first. She unlocked it and tossed the handbag she’d been clutching inside. Then she reached up to her head. With a couple of tugs the white hair came off. The female officer shook her head and then ran her fingers through a short crop of sandy brown hair.

  “Remember my Halloween wig?” her grandmother asked. “And that’s my old housedress she’s wearing.”

  Kate turned to stare at Dorothy Crawford. “What,” she said, “happened?”

  “It was Rand’s idea. First he called the she
riff, and they worked it out.”

  Rand had called the sheriff? The man she’d suspected all along had in fact called the cops?

  “Worked what out?” Kate ask, hanging on to her patience.

  “How to set ’em up,” her grandfather said, chuckling. “Rand told us exactly how to string the guy along, convince him we were really going to meet him here at the bank and hand over ten thousand dollars.”

  “All I did was call the sheriff. Dorothy did the real work,” Rand said. “She played her part perfectly.”

  Was this for real? Kate wondered. Or was it all part of a plan to gain her grandparents’ confidence? No, surely it wasn’t worth somebody getting arrested for, there were too many easier marks out there.

  She shook her head sharply, trying to clear it. She wasn’t sure what she thought anymore. It wasn’t that she couldn’t accept that she might have been wrong about Rand, but she couldn’t help still being suspicious.

  Maybe you have spent too much time in big cities, she thought. Probably almost everybody in Summer Harbor would take Rand Singleton at face value. Maybe even she would have, if she hadn’t been so worried about Gram and Gramps. But when it came to the two people she loved most in the world, she couldn’t take any chances.

  When she learned the sheriff needed her grandparents to give a report, she automatically assumed she would take them. But the female officer cheerfully offered not only to give them a ride but bring her, and the borrowed dress, back home when they were done. This was her favorite kind of arrest, she told them, since her own dearest aunt had once been victimized by slime like this. Her grandparents excitedly accepted, and Kate didn’t have the heart to interfere.

  “Good,” Rand said. “I’ll take Kate out and feed her, to make up for missing out on most of the excitement.”

  “What?” she almost yelped.

  “Wonderful!” her grandmother exclaimed. “Go to the Italian place, across from the marina. Kate loves it.”

  They were gone before she could put together a coherent protest. And Rand was unlocking his rental’s passenger door as if it were a given she was indeed going with him.

 

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